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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224025">dynamics.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/knifechurch/pseuds/knifechurch'>knifechurch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>South Park</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parenting, Coming of Age, Discussion of Abortion, FTM, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Teen Pregnancy, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Unplanned Pregnancy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 01:59:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25224025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/knifechurch/pseuds/knifechurch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>dy·nam·ics<br/>noun<br/>1. the branch of mechanics concerned with the motion of bodies under the action of forces.<br/>2. the forces or properties which stimulate growth, development, or change within a system or process.</p><p>ex.<br/>16-year-old trans teenager Kyle Broflovski finds himself pregnant by his longtime boyfriend. Now he must deal with the harsh opinions of his small mountain town, and his own battle for the future of himself and his unborn child.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kyle Broflovski/Kenny McCormick, Stan Marsh/Leopold "Butters" Stotch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. discovery.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey, Stan?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Hypothetically, if I needed you to buy me a pregnancy test, would you be cool about it?”</p><p> </p><p>There was a long beat of silence before Stan said, <em> “Dude, what?” </em></p><p> </p><p>Kyle groaned on the other end of the line. He had called Stan repeatedly until he woke him up, insisting he needed his help.</p><p> </p><p>But Stan didn’t expect to hear <em> that. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Kyle, dude, are you-” Stan spluttered, trying to connect the dots in his brain. “Please tell me you’re joking. I - Ky, dude, why the fuck would you <em> think </em> that?”</p><p> </p><p>“......I’m late.”</p><p> </p><p>“Late?”</p><p> </p><p>“My <em> period, </em> Stan. I’m <em> late.” </em></p><p> </p><p>“I - how do you - ?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have an app. I was supposed to start, like, a week ago. And I’ve been throwing up.”</p><p> </p><p>Stan squeezed his eyes shut. “Jesus Christ. But that’s no big deal, right? Can’t that happen because of stress? Maybe you’re just stressed, man, not…” Stan can’t even say it, his heartbeat in his ears. “Fuck, dude, shouldn’t you be on T?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yes, because Ma is absolutely gonna let that shit happen, and I’ll still have <em> this </em> fucking voice,” Kyle raised the pitch of his voice to draw attention to it, his words dripping with sarcasm. “No, Stan, not fucking yet. And even if I was, this shit still could have happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“Listen, Ky, you don’t <em> know </em> it’s <em> that </em>. I’m sure there’s a lot of reasons you could be...late.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stan. Please. I-I feel like I’m losing it, please, just indulge my paranoia, man, can you please, please, <em> please </em> , buy a test for me and come over. <em> Please. </em> I’ll owe you.” </p><p> </p><p>There was an edge of desperation to his voice, and Stan pulled himself out of bed. No matter the situation, he wasn’t gonna just leave his best friend to deal with it on his own.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. I’m on my way. Don’t worry about owing me, man.”</p><p> </p><p>“Make sure to come in through the window.”</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Come in.”</p><p> </p><p>Stan opened the bathroom door, finding Kyle sitting in front of the sink, holding something with both hands. Stan recognized it as the test, a white stick with a pink cap on the top. Kyle was holding it horizontally, face hard as he stared down at it.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, dude.” Stan sat on the ground next to him, glancing down at the tiny window. “We in the clear?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle said nothing.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude?” Stan tried again, purposefully avoiding looking down, dread settling in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>Kyle passed him the test, and as Stan took it, he could feel his friend’s fingers trembling. He covered the window with his thumb, trying to meet Kyle’s eyes, finding tears at the corners.</p><p> </p><p>He looked down, seeing exactly what he expected: two lines.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy <em> shit </em>, Ky,” He breathed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m dead,” Kyle sounded somewhere between laughing and sobbing. “I’m so fucking dead, Stan.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, dude, it’s - it’s not the end of the world.”</p><p> </p><p>“It <em> is. </em> Mom’s going to kill me. If she doesn’t, she’s going to lock me in my room until I <em> starve. </em>My life is over.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay, Ky, really, uh...it could be a false positive.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know how rare those are?!” Kyle whimpered. ”A positive, plus missing my period, plus morning sickness, plus…..”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle trailed off, putting his chin on his knee. He looked so small, so <em> defeated. </em></p><p> </p><p>“...Is it Kenny’s?” Stan asked tentatively, nervously grasping the test.</p><p> </p><p>“Who the fuck else, genius?” He snapped, then sighed. “S-sorry. It could <em> only </em>be Kenny’s. The…I thought it’d be okay if…God, I’m such an idiot.”</p><p> </p><p>“So, you know…?”</p><p> </p><p>“My birthday...it’s the only…that’s just my luck, isn’t it?” He laughed humorlessly.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, um. May 26th. So that puts you at…” Stan attempted to count back, trying not to focus on the <em> very </em>personal information being thrust upon him. “What, not even a month?”</p><p> </p><p>He flinched but nodded. “...It’s four weeks.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay. So let’s look up the symptoms of that, yeah? We’ll see if it matches, and when it doesn’t, we’ll know it was false.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re wasting your time, Stan.”</p><p> </p><p>Stan brushed off his comment, pulling out his phone and tapping in their query, clicking the first link and scrolling. “Okay, uh. Your baby is - <em> would </em>be...as big as a poppy seed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Symptoms, Stan. We’re looking for symptoms.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right, sorry. Um…I’ll just look at general early pregnancy stuff, okay?” Stan couldn’t help but blush - he wasn’t used to thinking about Kyle like this. “Um. B...breast tenderness and swelling?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle visibly grimaced. “Yes. Now never talk about my breasts again.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t have to tell me twice. Fatigue?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah…”</p><p> </p><p>“Um...nausea and vomiting? Frequent urination?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes and yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Excessive...saliva?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Kyle said, voice shaking with tears. “Yes, Stan. <em> All of that. </em>Like I said.”</p><p> </p><p>Stan set his phone down, gulping. The tension in the small bathroom was thick enough to cut with a knife, silent besides the sound of Kyle’s barely choked back sobs. Stan reached over and wrapped an arm around him. Kyle had always been tiny, but it seemed more noticeable now. Stan could hardly conceive the idea of Kyle, his best friend, the boy he grew up next door to, being <em> pregnant.</em></p><p> </p><p>Kyle was eerily silent, his hand rubbing gentle, thoughtless circles on his stomach. </p><p> </p><p>“There’s a person growing inside me,” He finally said, blankly, more of a declaration than anything else.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I-I do. I do, Stan, I know, I…” He lifted his head, craning back to meet Stan’s eyes. “I know it sounds stupid, but I can <em> feel </em>it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I-it doesn’t sound stupid.”</p><p> </p><p>“What am I going to <em> do </em>?” </p><p> </p><p>“I...I can’t help you there. But I can <em> help </em> you, dude. Whatever you need, I can get you, I promise, just hit me up. I’m totally ready to take you to Planned Parenthood if you want.”</p><p> </p><p>“Abortions cost money, Stan,” Kyle sighed, the sound twisting with a sob as he laid his head back down. “Money I don’t have.”</p><p> </p><p>“My mom can help pay for it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then she’ll tell mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe she can pay for it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t even know if I <em> want </em> an abortion. I have no idea what I want. Besides that I don’t <em> want </em> to tell Ma I’m <em> fucking pregnant </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“What WHAT <em> WHAT?! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>The two boys jumped at the sound, the doorknob twisting and flying open in a matter of milliseconds, revealing none other than Sheila Broflovski, far more imposing from the floor. Kyle scrambled to his feet, holding his hands up as if his mother was a wild animal.</p><p> </p><p>“Mom, I can explain-!”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re <em> pregnant?! </em>” She shrieked, and Stan cringed, silently thanking any and all Gods to have not been born to the shrill-voiced woman in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>“I was kidding! Stan and I were just joking around. Mom, please, I’m sorry-!”</p><p> </p><p>“And what’s this?!” Sheila grabbed Stan’s wrist, and he pulled back - he was definitely stronger than some fifty year old woman. However, he realized far too late what she was aiming for, as the pregnancy test clattered to the tile. She and Kyle both reached for it, but she snatched it up first, her already crazed expression twisting further at the display. </p><p> </p><p>Kyle cowered, beginning to shake all over again. Stan wrapped a protective hand around his wrist, avoiding his friend’s mother’s gaze as best as he possibly could. </p><p> </p><p>“Mom-“ Stan had never heard Kyle sound quite this scared, quite this desperate. “-it’s fake, it’s just a bad joke, please!”</p><p> </p><p>Stan felt like he should say something instead of just standing there gaping, holding back the urge to defend his friend as he saw Kyle’s bottom lip tremble.</p><p> </p><p>But then Sheila turned to him, her green eyes blazing - despite matching exactly in shape and shade, they weren’t nearly as nice to look at as Kyle’s, lacking the warmth and sparkle his held, even when burning with rage.</p><p> </p><p>“Did <em> you </em>do this to her?!”</p><p> </p><p>It took Stan a moment to realize she was referring to Kyle, and the incorrect pronoun just angered him further, his hands balling into fists. He could <em> hurt </em> her - sure, he was a child, but he was a <em> 16-year-old quarterback child, </em> and he was <em> pissed. </em>But Kyle’s free arm flew out in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Mom, it wasn’t Stan, I promise. It’s my fault. Mom, please.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> You </em> should be ashamed of yourself, young man. I expected <em> more </em>from you.” She hissed, and Kyle looked down, sniffling back his sobs. “You’re supposed to be focusing on your studies, Kyle. You’re not like those other girls.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, because he’s not a <em> girl. </em> What’s wrong with you?” Stan finally found his voice, and it came back with a vengeance. “He’s <em> crying! </em>Can’t you leave him the fuck alone?!”</p><p> </p><p>Sheila gasped and glared at him. “What did you just say to me, young man?”</p><p> </p><p>“I said-!”</p><p> </p><p>“No! You get out of my house. I don’t want any of you boys near my poor son.”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not-!”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Stan. </em>” Kyle said, voice just above a whisper, and Stan paused and looked back at him. “Please. Just go.”</p><p> </p><p>“But...Ky-”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Go. </em>Please.” </p><p> </p><p>“Kyle, I’m not leaving you-!”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Stan! </em> ” Kyle hissed. “I’m telling you to <em> leave </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Stan searched his eyes, but Kyle gave little up besides his pleading expression and tear stained cheeks. </p><p> </p><p>“...Okay. Call me, okay?” He squeezed Kyle’s wrist, reluctantly letting go, his entire body screaming at him to stay, help, fight. “Love you, Ky.”</p><p> </p><p>“Love you too.” Kyle murmured.</p><p> </p><p>Stan nudged past Sheila, forcing himself to leave the room, his hands in his jacket pockets.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Go back. Help him. Don’t leave him with her. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He held the rail as he made his way down the staircase, eyes focused on his feet. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is just like Leo. He’s gonna get hurt, and it’ll be your fault. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He passed Ike on the couch, ignoring his <em> What’s going on? </em>, attempting to numb himself to the yelling behind him, the sounds of Kyle defending himself and sobbing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He’s gonna get hurt, and it’ll be all your fault. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Stan let the door slam behind him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Him and his baby. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Kyle stared at his hands, folded neatly in his lap. His thighs were freckled, exposed by his sleep shorts, and it was noticeable compared to the much clearer skin of his thin hands - two traits of his body he’d always hated, among others, for the femininity inherent to them. </p><p> </p><p>Two traits Kenny had always <em> loved, </em>among others, laying his head in Kyle’s lap, saying what a good pillow he made. Kyle would snark back, but comb his fingers through Kenny’s hair, and the blonde would tilt his head up just enough to smile at him. </p><p> </p><p>He tried to hang onto thoughts of Kenny’s toothy grin as his parents stared him down, their squabble flinging from each other back to their common enemy; Kyle.</p><p> </p><p>“It was that McCormick boy, wasn’t it?” His father said, rubbing his forehead like this was the most annoying thing in the world.</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t matter who it was, Dad. It was <em> my fault. I </em> said it was okay. He didn’t want to risk it, but I didn’t care.” Kyle shifted nervously in his seat. He didn’t want this getting back to Kenny before he could tell him himself. </p><p> </p><p>“So you’re some kind of whore? Is that it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Gerald!” His mother gasped, and Kyle himself flinched back.</p><p> </p><p>“What? She said it herself!”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t think it would happen, Dad,” Kyle retorted, still fidgeting, trying to process what his father had said to him. “It - it was late at night, I wasn’t thinking straight. It was a mistake, and I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right it was a mistake,” His mother interjected, and Kyle shrank back under her stare - his father could be intimidating or downright annoying, but his mother? She <em> terrified </em>him. “Kyle, this isn’t like you! I raised you better than this.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>His mother stood, walking over to stand next to his chair. She lifted his chin in one hand, and Kyle willed himself not to pull away. Her hand felt unfamiliar, somehow.</p><p> </p><p>“Kyle, honey, I know you’re sorry. And we’re gonna help you with this, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle couldn’t hide his surprise. His parents...helping him, after he broke a rule? It sounded too good to be true, and Kyle was sure it was. </p><p> </p><p>“What?” He asked, trying not to squirm. </p><p> </p><p>“You haven’t ruined your future just yet,” Gerald mused, venom in his tone. Kyle didn’t look at him. “Once this all goes away, we can all pretend it never happened.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re willing to overlook this silly mistake as long as you pay us back.” Sheila tucked one of Kyle’s curls behind his ears. <em> Don’t squirm, don’t squirm! </em></p><p> </p><p>Kyle turned their words over in his head. “You...you want me to abort?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re <em> going </em>to abort,” His father corrected. </p><p> </p><p>“...I don’t know if I want that, though.” Kyle pulled his chin out of his mother’s grip. </p><p> </p><p>“Sweetheart. You don’t know what you want yet. You’re too young, this is what you <em> have </em>to do.”</p><p> </p><p>His brow twitched. “It’s my baby. I can choose what happens to it.”</p><p> </p><p>“The decision’s been made, Leah.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t make that decision!” Kyle snapped. In the bathroom, with Stan, he had been so terrified and baffled by the whole situation - but he didn’t know how he felt now, just that his parents didn’t decide it. “You don’t <em> get </em> to make that decision for me!”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re sixteen years old! You’re not ready to be a parent!”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care! If I want to abort, <em> I’ll decide it </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you aren’t living under my roof with that <em> thing </em> inside you,” Gerald snapped, making Kyle flinch. That <em> thing? </em> His baby - his baby with Kenny, at that - planned or not, was not to be bitterly referred to as a <em> thing.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Then maybe I don’t want to live under your roof.”</p><p> </p><p>“What, what, what?!” Sheila cried, and Kyle tried to regain his composure as much as he could.</p><p> </p><p>“If you won’t let me make my own decision, I’m <em> leaving. </em>You can’t make me get an abortion.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’d walk out on your own family just because some redneck knocked you up?!” Gerald shouted.</p><p> </p><p>Kyle stood from the table, the chair screeching behind him, and stomped up the stairs, pulling a bag from the top shelf of his closet and beginning to pack it full of his clothes, pictures, his favorite books...anything he might need. He was trying to grab anything he could possibly fit - he was <em>never </em>coming back<em>.</em></p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle turned to find Ike standing in his doorway. He shot up, running over and hugging his younger brother tightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Be good. Be good, okay? I have to go, but don’t believe a thing they tell you, okay? I love you so much.” He kissed the side of his head roughly, grabbing his bag as he stood.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t-” Ike was cut off by their mother storming upstairs.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t just <em> leave, </em>Kyle! You’re sixteen!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that’s weird! Because here I fucking go.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> LANGUAGE! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle pushed past her, running down the stairs and towards the door. His father grabbed his arm, and Kyle tugged on it.</p><p> </p><p>“Let <em> go, </em>Dad. I’m leaving.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yeah? And where will you go?  You’re nothing without your family backing you up, Leah. You’re a <em> child. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle felt like he was on fire, and not in the good way. He glared at his dad, daring him to question him, snapping,  “Maybe I’ll go to Kenny. Because he <em> loves me </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“You think he loves you? You’re a <em> mess </em>. You’re a stupid little girl who won’t stop playing dress-up.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle ripped his arm away, slapping his dad across the face, relishing in the sound. Gerald looked stunned, and Kyle took the opportunity to get out of there.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck you, <em> Dad </em>.” He hissed, stomping through the front door and slamming it behind him.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Somebody was knocking on Stan’s door.</p><p> </p><p>Well, <em> banging </em>on his door. </p><p> </p><p>He opened said assaulted door to find Kyle, shaking. He was still in the same pajama shirt and shorts from earlier that morning, and had a duffel bag tucked under one arm.</p><p> </p><p>“Holy shit, what happened?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle rushed inside, ending up with his arms clumsily thrown around Stan and his face in his shoulder, still trembling. Stan let the door close, leading his stumbling best friend to the couch.</p><p> </p><p>“Stan, I-” He sobbed, rubbing at his eyes furiously. “Oh, shit, I don’t know what to do! Oh, fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay, dude. <em>What</em> <em>happened</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“Stan? Is that Kyle?”</p><p> </p><p>His mother appeared in the doorway, her eyebrows raised slightly. Stan shushed her and gestured for her to leave, but Kyle had already noticed.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, <em> God </em>,” he wailed, burying his face back in Stan’s chest. </p><p> </p><p>“Kyle, honey, what’s wrong?” Sharon made her way around the couch, kneeling in front of them, glancing at Stan for guidance. Stan just mouthed an ‘<em> I don’t know! </em>’ Though he had a vague idea.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Mrs. Marsh, I can go, I just-”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop that. You’re always welcome here. Now, what’s wrong, honey?”</p><p> </p><p>“...I think I just ran away,” Kyle muttered, head barely lifted.</p><p> </p><p>“...Oh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Or. Well. I think I was just kicked out.”</p><p> </p><p>Sharon’s eyebrows flew up, and Stan couldn’t blame her at all - Sheila? Kicking out her pride and joy? Unthinkable.</p><p> </p><p>“Why’s that, hon?” She said, and Kyle and Stan exchanged a look.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know if….” Kyle glanced around anxiously. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me...so long as it isn’t dangerous.”</p><p> </p><p>“N-no, it’s not…” Stan shook his head, scratching at his friend’s back.</p><p> </p><p>Sharon hummed in confirmation, satisfied for the moment. She didn’t want to push any sort of confessions or prodding onto Kyle, knowing from experience that was rather….<em> Sheila-y </em>in nature.</p><p> </p><p>Kyle seemed relieved, leaning back into Stan. “If...If I can’t stay here, I understand, I just….”</p><p> </p><p>“Leo’s already staying with us, Ky. You can stay as long as you need.”</p><p> </p><p>(Butters had moved in earlier that year, after his father had finally gone too far and lost any and all custody of him, and the courts had <em> somehow </em>accepted the reality of him moving him in with his boyfriend as an alternative after every other family member was knocked out. It was all very convenient, but what does that matter?)</p><p> </p><p>“...Where is Butters, by the way?” Kyle muttered, looking up at the staircase.</p><p> </p><p>“Work,” Stan supplied. He tried to communicate <em> you don’t have to tell him </em>with just his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Kyle sniffled and nodded. “Work. Oh, God.”</p><p> </p><p>“When’d you leave?”</p><p> </p><p>“An hour ago. I-I started to go to Kenny’s, but realized his family <em> definitely </em> couldn’t afford to help me, especially...so I turned around, because I couldn’t force Kenny to do that.”</p><p> </p><p>Stan wondered if he’d told Kenny yet.</p><p> </p><p>At that moment, somebody knocked again. Kyle looked terrified.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s okay,” Sharon soothed, standing. “If it’s your mother, I’ll talk to her, okay? You can at least spend the night.”</p><p> </p><p>The redhead relented, nodding once more, and curled into Stan.</p><p> </p><p>Sharon sighed and turned towards the door, opening it gingerly. She was surprised to find Kenny on the front stoop, white as a sheet, eyes wild.</p><p> </p><p>“Is Kyle here?” He asked. He sounded like he’d run the whole way there.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” She said, and the moment she did, Kenny shoved past her and scrambled over to the couch, standing in front of his best friends.</p><p> </p><p>“Ken?” Kyle whispered, and Stan felt him shake. </p><p> </p><p>Kenny grabbed Kyle’s hands and pulled him forward, looking mystified.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it true?” He asked, squeezing his fingers. “Are you pregnant?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle looked like he was going to start crying again, and when Sharon gasped behind him, he did, pulling away from Kenny with a sob.</p><p> </p><p>“Ky?” Kenny asked, looking at Stan for guidance. “Wait, Kyle, baby, I’m not mad. S’okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“G-god, don’t call me <em> baby… </em>” Kyle groaned, covering his face, and it wasn’t just because he found the term embarrassing this time.</p><p> </p><p>“Kyle, dude, it’s okay.” Stan rubbed his back, but wasn’t sure how okay it really was. He looked at his mother anxiously. <em> Please be cool with this. </em></p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright if you are, sweetheart.” Sharon said, quickly, stepping forward to pat Kyle’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Who told you?” He whimpered, peeking at Kenny through his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>“My mom. Yours called. Ma thought I’d cheated on you and knocked up some girl, really chewed me out,” Kenny said, then cringed. “Not that I think of it like that. I wouldn’t call it that. If you’re really pregnant. Are you…?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle nodded glumly, dropping his hands. His eyes were red and puffy, tears drying into trails as they rolled down his cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>Kenny softened immediately, kneeling in front of the couch. “Ky…”</p><p> </p><p>He was looking at Kyle with such softness in his eyes that Stan could puke.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Kyle choked, covering his face again. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, Ken, this is all my fault!”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no! Kyle, Ky, it’s okay,” Kenny’s hands paused as he raised them, and Stan could tell he wanted to rest them against Kyle’s stomach, but instead he pulled his hands down from his face and held them. “It ain’t nobody’s <em> fault, </em>Ky. What’s done is done, okay? Okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nobody’s angry with you, sweetheart,” Sharon assured him, rubbing his back, trying to shake off the shock. “Are you sure? That you’re pregnant, I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“I took a test,” Kyle sighed, sniffling. “This morning. Just the one. But I’ve...I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s where I went earlier,” Stan explained. “Why I came home at like, eight. I bought him one.”</p><p> </p><p>Stan had returned home in a huff, glad Butters wasn’t around by the time he got back. He couldn’t tell anybody what he was so tense about, after all.</p><p> </p><p>“I understand if I can’t stay—”</p><p> </p><p>“Kyle,” Sharon chided, before he’d even finished. “Of <em> course </em>you can stay. There’s no way I’m letting you leave now that I know - I’m here to help.”</p><p> </p><p>“But- hey, you’ll come back home with me, right?” Kenny looked momentarily confused, squeezing Kyle’s hands. “I mean, why didn’t you come to me <em> first, </em>firefly?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle gulped, letting out a low groan. “Ken, I...I can’t do that to you. Okay? I can’t make you deal with this.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? Ky—” Kenny scoffed, looking hurt. “Listen. You aren’t making me deal with anything. It’s <em> our </em>baby, Kyle, oh my god. Ours.”</p><p> </p><p>The words <em> our baby </em>made Kyle flinch, just barely, and brought a fresh wave of tears. “I-I...Kenny. I know that. But this...I did this. You have yourself to take care of, and Karen, I...I couldn’t ask you to take me in, not when…”</p><p> </p><p>“Kyle…” Kenny still looked upset, but Stan could tell he understood the line of thinking. “Ky, I played a part here too. I wanna do everything I can to support you. Both of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god, <em>stop!</em>” Kyle sobbed, pulling back his hands to furiously wipe at his tears.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude,” Stan said, pulling Kyle closer, unable to come up with anything beyond that. He knew he shouldn’t feel defensive - Kenny was just trying to comfort him, and there wasn’t any goddamn guide for what to say here. </p><p> </p><p>Kyle’s crying was as violent as it had been when he got there. Kenny looked at Sharon for some sort of guidance, his hands hovering over Kyle’s knees.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not because I don’t want to be with you, Ken,” Kyle whined, regarding Kenny again. “I s-started towards your house first, but...I couldn’t. I don’t even know what I want to do…”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s okay,” Kenny assured him. “That’s <em> fine, </em> Kyle. I-I want you home with me, I do, if you’re...but you don’t have to do <em> anything </em>you don’t want to. ‘Kay? I’m followin’ your lead, babe.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle relaxed marginally, tilting his head back and blinking his tears away like they weren’t obvious. </p><p> </p><p>“So…” Sharon cleared her throat. “I know you’re having a big day, but I need to ask you some questions.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle cringed and nodded. “Yeah. I figured. Uh...where do we start?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well...I’m assuming your parents know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah...Mom overheard Stan and I, and caught me red-handed with the test.” He groaned. “She <em> accused </em>Stan…”</p><p> </p><p>Sharon let out a startled laugh, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. That isn’t funny.”</p><p> </p><p>“S’kinda funny…” Kyle shrugged. “Whatever. My mom told my dad, and they...they told me I had to...terminate. You know. Abort.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> What </em> ?” Kenny snapped, making the other three look at him, and then looked guilty. “Unless that’s what you <em> want, </em>Ky, I didn’t mean…”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle pursed his lips. “I-I don’t know. I got upset at the suggestion, but…”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to make any decisions right now,” Sharon soothed, when she saw Kyle’s hands shaking. </p><p> </p><p>“Right. Right, um, yeah...I got upset, and told them they couldn’t force me to. It’s my body, right? My decision.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course it is!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah...then Dad said I couldn’t live under his roof with…” His face twisted. “He called it a <em> thing. </em> Can you believe that? He said I couldn’t live there with <em> that thing </em>inside me. So I packed my stuff and left.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry, Kyle,” She pressed a hand to his back again. She’d <em> never </em> been fond of Gerald, and the idea of him saying that to the child in front of her, his <em> son, </em>made her want to wrap Kyle up and claim him as her own.</p><p> </p><p>“Mom didn’t want me to leave,” He covered his face with one hand, the other clutching Kenny’s on his knee. “Y-you said she called your <em> mom </em>, Ken?”</p><p> </p><p>“On the landline,” Kenny confirmed. Stan and Kyle knew for a fact that their home phone only existed from Kenny and Kevin’s combined efforts. “She came into my room screaming about it, how much trouble I was in, how I could do that to you, callin’ me a <em> no-good cheatin’ scumbag, </em>and I didn’t catch on until she said the wrong name.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle groaned at the idea of his mother using his deadname. “<em> Awesome. </em>God…I don’t know what I’m going to do when she finds me…”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey. Listen.”  Stan tried to sound reassuring. “If she comes here, dude, we’ll make sure you can stay. Right, Mom?”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Like I said - as long as you need. Is there anything I can do right now?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tea?” Kenny said, suddenly. “Would that help? It might calm you down.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle flushed but nodded. “Maybe. I can make it, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no, c’mon. Let me take care of you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Ken, I swear to <em> god </em>…”</p><p> </p><p>“Let me,” Sharon chuckled, standing. “What would you like?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, anything is fine. I don’t really care.” </p><p> </p><p>Sharon patted his shoulder one last time, allowing Kenny to take her place on the couch, moving towards the kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Knock knock knock. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Kyle practically jumped out of his skin. Stan could feel him trembling under his fingers - they all knew who it had to be this time around.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll get it.” Sharon sighed. “Wait right there, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>He nodded, curling in on himself, head between his knees. Kenny murmured something to him Stan couldn’t catch, their hands still locked, his thumb stroking over Kyle’s knuckles.</p><p> </p><p>“Where is my son?” The moment the door opened, they heard Sheila’s indignant tone, causing her aforementioned son to clench up further, his free hand gripping the edge of the couch for dear life. </p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Sheila,” Sharon’s voice was tight, fairly composed given the circumstances, in Stan’s opinion. “Could we speak outside?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Is Kyle here </em>? I’m not sure what he might have told you, Sharon, but he needs to be home with his family right now! I know he always runs to Stanley when he’s upset.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle seemed to scoff, his demeanor shifting ever so slightly from <em> terrified </em> to <em> annoyed </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“I think it would be best if we talked about this situation <em> outside </em>before we come to any decision, okay? Stan told me—”</p><p> </p><p>Before she had even finished, Sharon yelped, and all three directed their attention towards the door as Sheila pushed the other woman aside to step into the living room. </p><p> </p><p>Her eyes immediately landed on Kenny, and Kyle’s hand clasped in his, her jaw clenched.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> You! </em>How dare you touch my son?” She roared, nostrils flaring. Kyle stood up to face her, but Kenny came with him, standing halfway in front of the smaller teen. </p><p> </p><p>“Mom, stop it. You’re causing a scene,” Kyle was practically grinding his teeth, glaring at his mother. Stan’s vision was mostly blocked by Kyle’s back, but he could see his free hand scratching a nervous rhythm against his thigh from here.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the one who stormed out! Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve gotten yourself in, young man?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Dad’s the one that kicked me out! What, did he change his mind? I can’t imagine he did!”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Kyle. </em>Sweetie. You’re sixteen, you don’t understand what you’re talking about! You’re coming home, right now, and you’ll stop bothering the poor Marshes—”</p><p> </p><p>“He isn’t bothering anyone,” Sharon spoke up. Her arms were crossed over her chest when Stan craned his head to look at her. “In fact, he’s staying here tonight. I think it would be a safer environment.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Excuse me </em> ? You think - you think <em> you’d </em> provide a safer environment for <em> my </em>son? Don’t be ridiculous!”</p><p> </p><p>“Based on what Kyle’s told me, you and Gerald don’t seem emotionally equipped for this situation,” She replied, cooly. Stan briefly wondered if his mother was, in fact, a little bit awesome. After being a mom and all.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about! Now, Kyle, come on. You’re coming home whether you like it or no—”</p><p> </p><p>“I’M NOT GETTING A FUCKING ABORTION.”</p><p> </p><p>The room fell silent for what felt like eons, Kyle breathing heavily, his hands wrenched from Kenny’s to clench at his sides. Sheila was opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water.</p><p> </p><p>“Kyle—!” She began, but he shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> No </em>! I won’t. I don’t want to. And you can’t make me. A-and if you try to, I’ll fucking sue you, I swear to god!”</p><p> </p><p>“Language! That is no way to speak to your mother, young man. If you’d come home, we could talk about—”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not going home! I’m not safe there!” Kyle was practically shrieking now, Kenny glancing back at him then Sheila with mild concern.</p><p> </p><p>“And you think you’re safer here? We’re your family, Kyle!”</p><p> </p><p>“I think I’m safer with the father of my child,” He hissed, latching onto Kenny’s arm. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I know I’m <em> never going back </em>!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sheila, I think it’s time for you to leave.” Sharon looked a little nervous at this development, her hand holding the door open. Stan stayed silent. He felt this conversation wasn’t for him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not leaving until Kyle comes home with me!”</p><p> </p><p>“Then I’ll call the police. Get off my property.”</p><p> </p><p>Sheila squawked, turning back to the lovely young couple giving her looks full of contempt. “What are you going to do, Kyle? You can’t raise a child! What about your future?! Do you really want to end up as trailer trash instead of a lawyer?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, hang on,” Kenny snapped. He was always pretty good at staying calm in situations like these, unless you pushed a few very particular buttons, and Sheila had hit one right on the head. “Ain’t nothin’ like that gonna happen while I’m around, and I ain’t goin’ <em> anywhere. </em>I’d appreciate you not underestimatin’ Kyle for once.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like you have any right to speak to me, after what you did to my poor baby! You’ve ruined his life!”</p><p> </p><p>“It was <em> my fault </em> !” Kyle shouted, but this time, anger tinged his words instead of guilt. “You just want to blame Kenny for everything that goes wrong! Newsflash, Mom! I <em> did </em>this! And Kenny’s the one supporting me!”</p><p> </p><p>Sheila rounded on her son again. The tension between them was tense enough that Stan almost wanted to run.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Kyle </em>,” She said, her voice unnervingly steady, like the calm before the storm.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not a danger to myself or others. I’m being provided for. The police won’t help you, they’re useless anyway, so they won’t waste their time bringing me home. And do you really want to go through the emancipation process, Ma?”</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes, Stan thought he forgot just how smart Kyle really was. And just how <em> unforgiving.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Sheila. You should go,” Sharon repeated.</p><p> </p><p>The woman seemed to consider her options, eyes flicking from Kyle to Kenny to Stan before she turned with a flair that reminded him of her son.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re coming home eventually, Kyle. This isn’t over!” She glared at Sharon, practically spitting her words out. “You can’t take my son from me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Goodbye, Sheila. It’s always a pleasure.” Sharon slammed the door behind her.</p><p> </p><p>The moment the door closed, Kyle dropped back onto the couch, letting out a shaky breath. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, hey,” Kenny cooed, pushing his curls behind his ears. “It’s okay. She’s gone. You’re okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t believe I did that. I c-can’t…”</p><p> </p><p>“It was awesome, dude,” Stan assured him. “Sorry for not saying anything. I…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s f-fine,” Kyle sniffed, sighing. “Oh, God, I…”</p><p> </p><p>“How about I make you that tea?” Sharon asked. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m kind of...tired, actually. Could I…?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shelley’s room is empty. Is that cool, Mom?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course it is. Go ahead, sweetheart, you deserve some rest.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle stood on shaky legs, and Kenny looked at Sharon hesitantly.</p><p> </p><p>“Would, uh…” He glanced between them. “Would it be okay with both of y'all if I stayed? I don’t...I don’t feel like leaving you right now, Ky.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Kyle said, practically a whisper. “That’s...yeah. If…”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course. You two go ahead. Stanley, come help me in the kitchen.”</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>After Kyle retreated to Shelley’s bedroom with Kenny, he quickly tried to occupy himself with anything he possibly could. He folded all his clothes and sat them on her old dresser, pausing when he got to his binder.</p><p> </p><p>“I probably shouldn’t wear this. Right?” He glanced back at Kenny, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed. “While I’m…”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Probably not. I’m no expert.” Kenny hummed. The air hadn’t been so awkward between them in what felt like forever, and Kyle hated it. “You can ask a doctor, when you, uh…see one.”</p><p> </p><p>“We can ask Sharon about that, I guess. She seems ready to help.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>They didn’t say anything else as Kyle continued to lay out his belongings in no particular order. Once he had stacked the three books he’d brought by the wall, he rose to his feet and turned around. Kenny’s eyes roamed over him almost clinically.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re pregnant.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”  </p><p> </p><p>“It’s mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>Stan’s sister’s bed still had pillows and blankets on it, thankfully, though Kyle wasn’t sure the last time she’d slept in it. He and Kenny laid on top of them, facing each other. It was quiet. Too quiet.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I…?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” Kyle knew what he was asking.</p><p> </p><p>As he’d predicted, Kenny’s hand drifted down to his stomach, resting against it. It didn’t feel any different- Kyle knew that, he had been anxiously touching it himself since he fucking found out. However, that didn’t stop him from feeling like he was going to cry.</p><p> </p><p>“How long?” Kenny asked, his other hand moving to Kyle’s hip to pull him closer.</p><p> </p><p>“It could have only been my birthday,” Kyle muttered. “So four weeks. I missed a period.”</p><p> </p><p>“God, Ky…”</p><p> </p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut, knocking their foreheads together. His heart was twisted in a battle between Kenny’s soft amazement and his parents’ cruel judgement. Kenny’s hand on his stomach felt so nice, and it made him sick.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry, Kyle.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” He opened his eyes. “Ken. You were the one who tried to slow it down.”</p><p> </p><p>“I should have been more...firm. This - maybe your mom’s right. You have bigger things ahead of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“So do you. A-and you’re happy about it. This. The baby.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you’re not.” He met Kyle’s eyes. “Are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle didn’t respond for a second, curling further into Kenny. He’d thought about children as some far off future - <em> hopefully </em> he’d marry Kenny, he didn’t want anyone else, but the idea of their family came second to him. He had no idea how to feel about all of it right <em> now, </em>and knowing Kenny wanted to keep it just complicated it further, even though he knew he’d respect any choice Kyle made.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you mean that, back there?” The blonde asked. He’d maneuvered so one arm was under Kyle and around his back, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, while his other hand remained on his stomach. “About...not ending it? Or was it just to get your mom off your ass?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle gulped, pressing his face into Kenny’s neck. He really didn’t want to cry. <em> I feel like such a girl, </em>he thought, and could have laughed, because shit, of course he did. Kenny’s fingers massaged the back of his neck, his nose pressed into his hair.</p><p> </p><p>He loved him so much. <em> So much. </em> Kyle loved him, and loved him even more now - he was so ready to do whatever Kyle wanted, even if it meant losing his...He was putting Kyle ahead of his own wants, even after <em> he </em>was the one who fucked it all up. He was really the best boyfriend he could ever ask for, and deserved an answer to such a simple question.</p><p> </p><p>But Kyle didn’t have one for him.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know,” He whispered, clutching the fabric of Kenny’s shirt, just over his heart. “I don’t <em> know </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny nodded. “That’s okay, babe. You don’t have to know just yet. Okay? It’s okay. We’ve got a good bit to figure it out, aight?”</p><p> </p><p>They had twenty weeks, actually. Once he hit 24 weeks, abortion was out the window. After that, he could carry it to term and put it up for adoption, or the even scarier option...<em> raise </em>it.</p><p> </p><p>He had so much he had to do. His entire life had been planned for him for as long as he could remember, and all of sudden, everything had come to a shrieking halt.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to cry, to scream, to curse this poor collection of cells that hadn’t done anything, had just dared to grow, to exist. But Kenny kissed the top of his head before he could fall apart.</p><p> </p><p>“Go to sleep, firefly. We’ll talk once you wake up, ‘kay? I got ya.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle sighed, letting his eyes slip closed. With his heartbeat roaring in his ears, he let those words surround him, a security blanket in the chaos.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I got ya. </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. dialogue.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sharon and the parents-to-be discuss logistics. Family questions are answered. Basically, there's a whole lotta talking.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kenny realized he was in love with Kyle in the fourth grade.</p><p> </p><p>When they were little, they played superheroes. Kenny wasn’t playing, though. He never was. </p><p> </p><p>To Kenny, Mysterion was never a game. It was an obligation, a <em> calling </em>, a guardian to those who lacked one, and the only one who ever seemed to grasp this was Kyle.</p><p> </p><p>Kyle, who he reached out to for help. Kyle, who posed as Mysterion to save his ass. </p><p> </p><p>Before he could leave, Kyle asked him to reveal himself, after taking the fall without a second thought. When his eyes widened and his lips parted, Kenny knew he was doomed.</p><p> </p><p>Even if Kyle didn’t remember his power, he saw him as a hero, and that drove Kenny crazy. Kyle admired him that much. Smart, cute Kyle, who quickly grew into smart, <em> beautiful </em> Kyle. He nearly knocked Kenny off his feet when he grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him in eighth grade. Kyle hadn’t had a crush on him for six months before it all boiled over and he confessed. Kenny would always remember the way he went red when Kenny told him he’d liked him for as long as he could remember.</p><p> </p><p>His ideal future had always included Kyle, and his family with him - whether it be by adoption, or surrogacy, or whatever else Kyle wanted. He didn’t care. He wanted to be able to say <em> ‘Hi, here’s my gorgeous, genius husband and our perfect kids’.  </em></p><p> </p><p>So, yes, when his mother said that stupid name and it all clicked together what it meant, he got fucking excited. Thrilled, even. Did they <em> mean </em> for Kyle to get pregnant? Hell no. But, as far as he knew, it had <em> happened </em> , and it was <em> real </em> , and it was <em> Kyle </em>, and he couldn’t really formulate any thoughts beyond that.</p><p> </p><p>But then he’d asked - revealed it, actually, which he never meant to do. And he saw the tears on Kyle’s cheeks, the shame in his eyes, and realized, with a devastating certainty, <em> Kyle doesn’t want this. </em></p><p> </p><p>Kyle was currently asleep, head on Kenny’s chest, arm slung over him. Kenny couldn’t seem to drift off - he felt like, if he relaxed for even a second, something would pluck Kyle up and carry him away. He’d never felt so fragile. Kenny knew he’d try to kick his ass if he said that, but he couldn’t help but see him that way. He wanted nothing more than to lock Kyle away and protect him from the outside world.</p><p> </p><p>Him and their baby.</p><p> </p><p>He felt so selfish, thinking about it now. How could he be so excited when it was clearly tearing Kyle apart? He’d blindly assumed Kyle would be as overjoyed as he was, but of course not - it was different for him, so different. It was a matter of his health, and comfort in his own body, and his future…</p><p> </p><p><em> Trailer trash. </em> The thought terrified him. The moment Sheila said that, nightmarish images flashed through his head - Kyle, miserable, in a run-down house with too many mouths to feed and too little to feed them with. </p><p> </p><p>Sheila was right, at least about that. Kyle didn’t deserve to be forced into a life like the one Kenny grew up in. He was supposed to do great things, greater than Kenny ever could - he was so fucking smart, and kind, and brave, and fuck, maybe Kenny <em> had </em> ruined his life.</p><p> </p><p>He looked down, smiling despite himself when Kyle’s curls tickled his chin. He couldn’t see his face from this angle, but could picture it - the splash of freckles across his nose, his eyelashes resting on the tops of his cheeks, a peaceful expression rarely seen when he was awake. He was <em> vulnerable </em> like this, and he trusted Kenny with that vulnerability, trusted him to keep him safe.</p><p> </p><p>Fuck. He was overthinking. It was just a nap.</p><p> </p><p>There was a gentle rap on the door, and Kyle jolted awake. He groaned, burying his nose in Kenny’s neck. </p><p> </p><p>“Come on in.” Kenny wasn’t sure if they’d locked the door behind them. He was relieved to find they hadn’t when Stan stepped in, closing it before turning to them.</p><p> </p><p>“Is he asleep?” He whispered, his eyes darting to Kyle.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I am,” Kyle grumbled in response, and Kenny chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, cool. So. I need to talk to you guys.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle lifted his head at that, much to Kenny’s disappointment. “What now?”</p><p> </p><p>“Leo’s home,” Stan said, shrugging. (Kenny couldn’t remember the last time Stan had actually called him ‘Butters' since they started dating.)</p><p> </p><p>“...Did you tell him?”</p><p> </p><p>“What? Dude, no! I wouldn’t do that. Unless you want me to…?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” He muttered, his cheek resting on Kenny’s collar again. “No. Don’t, I, uh…”</p><p> </p><p>“All you gotta say, dude. We told him your mom kicked you out because of Kenny. Sorry,” He finished, glancing at Kenny guiltily.</p><p> </p><p>“S’cool. Kinda true.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway…” Stan picked at the blanket, looking terribly awkward. “We were wondering if you wanted to tell him, like, alone, or….I don’t know, announce it? It’ll be weird acting like you...aren’t, y’know, when he’s around.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle chewed on his lower lip and squirmed against Kenny, looking thoughtful. “Isn’t me being comfortable more important than it being weird for you?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course it is!” Stan’s voice cracked, and he nodded his head wildly. “I didn’t mean — you know…I’m sorry, dude—!”</p><p> </p><p>“I know what you mean. But...wait, okay? I’ll tell him myself, eventually…” He shook his head. “I just need to figure out how to. I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be, dude. Take your time. Mom’s making lunch, by the way. If you two are hungry.”</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t eaten anything today,” Kyle admitted, and Kenny frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Um, I didn’t remember until now? It’s fine, Ken.” He tilted his head up to look at Kenny, brows furrowed. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s not!”</p><p> </p><p>“You need to eat, dude,” Stan agreed. “Do you have, like, cravings?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle tensed, and Kenny knew they’d fucked up.</p><p> </p><p>“Is this really how it’s gonna be?” He snapped, pulling himself out of Kenny’s arms to sit up by the headboard. “I’m not suddenly made of fucking glass. And I can’t believe you’d ask me that. No, I don’t have fucking cravings!”</p><p> </p><p>“Babe, there’s reason to be concerned,” Kenny sighed, annoyed. Even if Kyle didn’t know what he wanted to do yet, it wasn’t that unreasonable to want to play it safe. “It’s not just about you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s it about? The fucking <em> embryo </em> you put in me?”</p><p> </p><p>“....Yes? Obviously?”</p><p> </p><p>Stan glanced between them. “Listen. I’ll let you guys sort this out. See you downstairs, I guess?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” Kyle muttered, pulling his legs up to rest his chin on his knees.</p><p> </p><p>When they were alone, neither made any move to get up and go downstairs. Kenny sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. You’re right, you aren’t made of glass. But you get where I’m coming from, right?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle looked away, griping under his breath. Kenny gently touched his back.</p><p> </p><p>“Kyle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Kenneth.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny loosely wrapped his arms around Kyle’s middle, turning and pulling him so his back was against his chest. He smiled when he felt him relax into the embrace.</p><p> </p><p>“I know that this is a lot. But I love you, okay? And I want you to be healthy, Ky. I don’t think that’s so crazy.”</p><p> </p><p>He huffed, but kept pressing back into Kenny’s arms. “It’s…”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” He nuzzled behind Kyle’s ear. “Just because I’m excited doesn’t mean it isn’t scary for me, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“...I wish I had gotten to tell you myself. Oh, god, I should have called you first, when I suspected, but…”</p><p> </p><p>“Ky, it’s okay.”</p><p> </p><p>“I was scared you’d get mad at me if I was, and I was scared if I was wrong, you’d be upset, and—”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not.” Kenny turned him around, lifting one hand to his face. “I’m not upset at all, Ky. I just want you to be happy, ‘kay?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle chewed on his lower lip, meeting Kenny’s eyes. “...’Kay.”</p><p> </p><p>“Cool. So I don’t have to force you to eat?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course not!” He averted his eyes again, lifting a hand to trace the crook of Kenny’s arm. “...I lied to Stan.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh? About what?”</p><p> </p><p>He groaned, leaning fully into Kenny’s hand. “...Last week, when I was home alone, I finished a jar of peanut butter.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny laughed before he could stop himself. “Holy shit! Like, the whole thing?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not the whole thing! Just...there was about...this much.” Kyle took his hands away to hold them in front of him, representing the amount as the space between them.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s basically a full jar.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck off,” He grumbled, dropping his hands to his lap. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I was watching a movie and I really wanted some, and then suddenly I looked down and I’d eaten it all. I had to lie to my mom and say I found something in it and threw it away.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s weirdly cute.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m glad that the image of me inhaling peanut butter is cute to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Everything you do is cute to me, firefly.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle rolled his eyes, sliding out of Kenny’s grip and standing. Kenny followed, placing his hands on his hips from behind, nuzzling his nose into the nape of his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Ken, come on.” He whined.</p><p> </p><p>It felt like normal. Like they were waking up in one of their rooms after sneaking in to cuddle the night before, and Kyle was complaining because the other <em> really </em> had to get out of there before their parents noticed.</p><p> </p><p>But they weren’t at home. And they both knew why.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Downstairs, they found two of the Marsh(Marsh-Stotch?) family members in the kitchen. Butters was still in his uniform from the movie theater, and smiled brightly when he saw them.</p><p> </p><p>“Kyle!” He gasped, shooting up from his chair and hugging him. “Stan told me what happened. I’m so sorry!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Um. Hey.” Kyle awkwardly patted his back. Kenny was thankful Butters hugged with his arms under other people’s, and not by squeezing around the middle. “It’s cool, dude…”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a good thing you came here,” He pulled back, moving his hands to Kyle’s upper arms as if to keep him planted there. “I know everything can be a real pain when your parents aren’t acceptin’. But Sharon was there to help me, and she’s here to help you!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah...that’s what I hope, anyway,” Kyle chuckled nervously.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought your mom already knew about you and Ken,” He continued, frowning. “What made her send you out now? If you don’t mind me askin’, that is.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle’s gaze darted over to Kenny before meeting Butters’s again. “Uh...She wanted me to break up with him again. She...caught us together. And I said no, and...yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>It sounded like bullshit to Kenny, but the other blonde nodded sagely. “I know how that is. Seein’ me with Stan is what set Dad off that last time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Leo,” Stan spoke up. Kenny jumped. He hadn’t even noticed him until now. “C’mon, don’t scare him off.”</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t doin’ that,” Butters retorted, but let go. Kyle looked relieved. </p><p> </p><p>“Ky’s having a hard morning, ‘kay?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine,” Kyle said, frowning at Stan. “Really. Thanks, Butters, but uh, it really wasn’t that bad.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you going back, then?”</p><p> </p><p>“Leo. Bunny.” </p><p> </p><p>“No,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “Uh, no. I uh. I don’t. Really wanna talk about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s okay, then!” Butters chirped, then turned to Kenny. “Hiya, Ken! Haven’t even said a word to you yet.”</p><p> </p><p>“S’cool. Ky’s pretty hard to resist,” Kenny shrugged, earning him a half-hearted elbow to the side.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s so nice that you both are here! It’s like a sleepover, like when we were little! But now it’s just the four of us.” Butters was still smiling, but grit his teeth a little when he spoke. </p><p> </p><p>At the mention of them being there, Kenny clenched a single fist. He still wanted to figure out a way to bring Kyle home with him. He understood why Kyle didn’t want to. His room wasn’t air conditioned or heated, and they rarely got a full meal. Really, Kyle shouldn’t come to his house - it wouldn’t be safe, wouldn’t be the support he needed.</p><p> </p><p>But he still <em> wanted </em> him to. He wanted Kyle in his home, where he could take care of him. Kyle could kick his ass; he was strong and stubborn and could definitely take care of himself (and Kenny, for that matter). But the moment he learned that he was pregnant, something awakened in Kenny; a desire to shelter, to care, to protect his man and his baby. Some sort of primal, fatherly urge.</p><p> </p><p>Fuck. He felt kind of creepy, thinking about it.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I’m really glad Sharon let me. Ah...Kenny will probably have to go home, though,” Kyle admitted, mournfully, making Kenny feel even worse.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll stay as long as I can,” He assured him, patting his arm. Kyle smiled at him gratefully, but didn’t meet his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you’re awake! That’s good.” They turned to find Sharon in the doorway, smiling. “Sorry. I was taking a phone call. How are you feeling, Kyle?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” He said, rather stiffly. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Leo, how about you come help me with that stuff on my laptop?” Stan said, suddenly, standing to put a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, right! Of course! Be right back, you guys!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yup,” Stan said, quickly steering him out the door, giving his mother a nod where he couldn’t see.</p><p> </p><p>Sharon turned back to them. Her smile had the warmth of Kenny’s own mother’s, but a different kind of exhaustion. “Let’s get you boys something to eat, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, please,” Kyle groaned, nodding vigorously.</p><p> </p><p>Once they’d prepared their meals - sandwiches, something that allowed Kyle to indulge in his newfound love of peanut butter - they sat at the table, the couple side by side and Sharon across from Kyle.</p><p> </p><p>“So. We need to talk.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I’d assume,” Kyle said, shrugging. “Um...you can start.”</p><p> </p><p>She took a nervous sip from her glass, nodding. “Alright. Well. The first matter at hand is whether or not you want to stay here.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle stiffened. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage—”</p><p> </p><p>“Now, now,” Sharon said, shaking her head. “I wasn’t saying you had to leave. You definitely don’t. You’re always welcome here, and you know that, right? You’re family. I was just asking if you <em> want </em>to stay.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle nodded, nibbling on the crust of his sandwich like a nervous little hamster. “If I can...yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, that’s good. Now, the next important question...do you have a gynecologist you already see?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle coughed, shaking his head. “No, um...I don’t. I guess I need one, though…?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you will. As soon as possible. Do you know how far along you are? It’s alright if not.”</p><p> </p><p>“I-I do. It, uh...it was my birthday. It was late, and I just—I was really—”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright,” Sharon repeated, offering a sincere smile. “You don’t have to tell me anything you aren’t comfortable with. I’m not judging either of you. I just want to help.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle bit into his sandwich with a little more force than necessary, looking away as he chewed. Kenny discreetly squeezed his thigh in an attempt to be comforting.</p><p> </p><p>“My birthday. So, uh. Thirty days. I’ve been...counting,” He said at last, tapping the table. “Four weeks. Two days.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, ah, no,” Sharon said. “Sorry, that was a dumb question. I should have asked when the last day of your last...cycle was.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle sputtered, looking suddenly embarrassed. “W-why?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, your pregnancy is actually counted by the last day of your last period,” She shrugged. “A lot of people don’t know that. I didn’t until I was pregnant for the first time. It’s based on your ovulation, when the egg was—”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, God,” Kyle groaned, shaking his head. “No, I get it, you can stop there. Let me look…”</p><p> </p><p>He pulled out his phone, scrolling to the last page of apps and clicking some flowery pink one Kenny hadn’t seen before. Inside, it just looked like a calendar. He tapped the screen another time, and cleared his throat. “May 15th. So…”</p><p> </p><p>“Six weeks,” Kenny finished, making them both look at him. He shrugged. “I’m good at head math.”</p><p> </p><p>“Six weeks…” Kyle muttered, turning back to his phone. “It’s been six weeks. How did I not...”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you’ve probably only recently started experiencing symptoms, if that’s the case.”</p><p> </p><p>“Y-yeah. Uh, yeah. I’m nauseous all the time, and…” Kyle looked far-off, even more so than before. “How didn’t I know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ky. Babe. She literally just said you’d just start noticing.”</p><p> </p><p>He nodded slowly. “I...Sure. Okay. So, uh. A gynecologist.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can just take you to mine, if you’d be comfortable with that.”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s gonna happen when I go?” He asked, halfway through his sandwich by now. The nervous look on his face made Kenny’s heart twist.</p><p> </p><p>“Well. I haven’t been pregnant in sixteen years, but I can’t imagine its changed that much!” Sharon laughed awkwardly. “Your first visit will mostly be like any other doctor’s appointment just checking on you. After that, they’ll determine your due date, and answer any questions you two have.”</p><p> </p><p>“I see…” Kyle folded his hands, keeping his eyes trained on his plate. Kenny wasn’t sure what to say. Words like <em> due date </em> were reminding him just how real this was; it wasn’t just a concept, something that <em> could </em> happen. Kyle was <em> actually </em> pregnant. He was <em> actually </em> carrying their child.</p><p> </p><p>“Would I be there? You said you two.” Kenny said at last, clearing his throat. His hand was still on Kyle’s leg, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. </p><p> </p><p>“If Kyle wants you to be.” </p><p> </p><p>“I do. I do, yeah, please.” Kyle nodded, looking at Kenny. “You’ll come with me, right…?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course!” Kenny squeezed his thigh again. “I want to be there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now, I can tell you some things already,” Sharon said. “You’re going to need to start eating right. And I don’t just mean fruits and vegetables, though that’s a good place to start!”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle looked at his sandwich guiltily. “Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, that’s fine, honey,” She reached out like she was going to pat his arm, but couldn’t quite reach him across the table. “There’s nothing wrong with a peanut butter sandwich. You should be avoiding caffeine, raw seafood, deli meat...there’s definitely more than a few lists you can look up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my God!” Kyle cried, covering his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“What? What’s wrong?” Kenny’s hand moved to his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“That party!” Kyle looked over to him, eyes wide, fingers still curled in front of his chin. “T-the one—the week before last. I had—I got so drunk, oh god, what if—”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Kenny resisted the urge to curse. Kyle had quite an affinity for shots when he had Stan and Kenny to keep him in check. By the end of that particular party, Kenny was stuck with him on the couch, the redhead passed out in his lap.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my God. I’m—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—!”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly. Kyle, sweetie, it’s alright. You didn’t know.” Sharon placed her hand closer to him, her voice gentle. “It’s alright, sweetheart. <em>You</em> <em>didn’t</em> <em>know</em>. What matters is not doing it any more.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay.” He nodded, still looking terrified. “O-okay. Of course, I would never…”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe we should take a break,” She sighed. “You shouldn’t stress yourself out, honey.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, Ky. You wanna head upstairs?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Uh, yes, yeah,” Kyle nodded again, slowly. “T-thank you, Sharon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anytime, sweetheart. You two can come to me for anything you need.”</p><p> </p><p>They returned to Shelley’s room with the plan for Kyle to change out of his pajamas. But when Kenny locked the door and turned around, he found Kyle standing in the middle of the room, breathing heavily, holding his hands over his mouth again.</p><p> </p><p>“What—what is it now?”</p><p> </p><p>“What is it <em> now </em> ?” Kyle hissed, glaring at him, hands dropping to his sides. “Maybe I’m freaking out about the fact that <em> you </em> knocked me up!”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny flinched, startled by the sudden venom in Kyle’s words. “Hey, now. Kyle. I didn’t mean to—”</p><p> </p><p>“How can I be sure?” Kyle snapped, near hysterical now, throwing his hands up. “Maybe you lied! You’re so damn happy about it, maybe you <em> meant </em> to get me pregnant! Maybe you actually <em> did </em> have a condom and <em> lied </em> to me so you could talk me into whatever the fuck you wanted, get a damn <em> baby </em> out of me! Huh, Ken?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I didn’t! You searched the room with me, dude, remember? Where the fuck is this coming from?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m six weeks pregnant!” His voice lowered, his mind clear enough to worry Butters might overhear. He spun around, as if he couldn’t bear to look at Kenny anymore. “Six weeks, Kenny! T-that’s already month two! I’m sixteen. You’re sixteen.”</p><p> </p><p>“I. Yeah. Ky—”</p><p> </p><p>“You work at a Chinese restaurant, and pay your family’s fucking bills, and I-I don’t even have a job, and now I’m mooching off poor Sharon, and…” Kyle’s voice had grown smaller and smaller as he spoke, and when he turned and met Kenny’s eyes, he was crying. “How are we supposed to take care of a <em> baby </em>, Ken?”</p><p> </p><p>Despite his frustration, Kenny melted immediately at Kyle’s devastated expression, frowning when he flinched away from his outstretched hand.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take another job,” He said, and felt a pang when Kyle looked away. “Okay? Sharon said she wants to help us, Kyle. If you want to keep the baby, I’m sure she’ll let us stay here, at least for a little while. I’ll start looking for openings, okay? We’ll figure this out.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re just kids,” Kyle whimpered, rubbing at his eyes. “W-we can’t do this. We don't know what we’re doing.”</p><p> </p><p>“Plenty of adults don’t know what they’re doing!” Kenny argued. “And we’ve got seven months to start learning. You could get a job, too, if you’re really worried. I mean, I don’t want you to, but…”</p><p> </p><p>“And I hate that,” He snapped. “The way you’re treating me. You don’t want me to get a job. You want me to live with you. I saw you get all tense when Butters hugged me. God, you and Stan both are already hovering, asking me about my goddamn eating habits! You’re treating me like I’m the baby! I’m still the same guy I was yesterday!”</p><p> </p><p>“I know that,” Kenny grunted, frustrated again, though it was dulled by the tears still leaking intermittently down Kyle’s cheeks. “I know that. But babe, it’s like I said. It’s not just you. You said it yourself.  I got you pregnant. So I want to take care of you. Is that really so fuckin’ crazy?”</p><p> </p><p>“I got myself pregnant,” Kyle grumbled. “I was so stupid. I could have just let you drive to the goddamn drugstore.”</p><p> </p><p>“You didn’t know this would happen.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I should have done everything I could to prevent it.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny hated <em> that </em>. The bitterness in Kyle’s voice, like their baby was the worst possible thing that could have happened to them. But he didn’t want to argue any more—he was already crying, and Kenny didn’t really know what it felt like, did he? This entire thing was so much more permanent for Kyle. He’d be the one going through the motions, the body changes, the childbirth—and while he’d never do such a thing, Kenny was the one with the ability to run away from all this.</p><p> </p><p>(The thought of leaving Kyle all alone to raise their baby made him want to beat that hypothetical version of himself to death.)</p><p> </p><p>“It’ll be okay, Kyle,” He repeated, stepping towards him, cradling his face. “I’m gonna make sure it’s okay. I’ll take care of you, both of you, no matter what. Or—or I’ll pay for—the procedure, if you want.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, Ken, I…” He shook his head, pressing his hands against Kenny’s own. “Let’s not talk about that right now. I need...I need time. To make a decision.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, of course.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you don’t have to pay for...that. If I do it. I can’t make you do that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I want to help.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know,” He sighed, nodding. “Yeah. I know.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wanna take another nap?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle snorted and shook his head. “No. No, um...when do you leave?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. I mean. I can stay the night, if you need.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, no...I’m sure your mother’s worried. Right?” </p><p> </p><p>“Eh.” Kenny stiffened at the mention of his mother, remembering her fierce anger at the idea of Kenny cheating on his boyfriend. Had she told his father? Of course not. Right?</p><p> </p><p>“No. Go home.” Kyle kissed him on the side of his jaw. “Check on your sister. For me, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“...Fine. For you. Now?”</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Kyle moved Kenny’s hands to his shoulders. “Not...not right now, if you can stay. I, uh...can we. Cuddle, maybe?”</p><p> </p><p>He grinned. “Of course we can cuddle. Fuck kinda question?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle led him back towards the bed, pushing Kenny down against it and curling up on top of him like he had before. Kenny put an arm around him, hand coming around his side to settle loosely on his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that okay? Can I do that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Kyle said, though his voice was soft, uncharacteristically timid. He put his hand over Kenny’s heart, tracing over the fabric of his shirt.</p><p> </p><p>“I love those shorts, by the way. Have I mentioned that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” </p><p> </p><p>“They’re really cute.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up,” Kyle laughed, nuzzling under his chin. “I changed my mind. Let me sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anything for you.”</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Kenny slept, too, this time, and when Kyle woke up, it was already past noon.</p><p> </p><p>“Kenny.” Kyle nudged him. Kenny’s hand was still on his stomach, something that made his heart clench in a way he didn’t quite enjoy. “Ken, wake up. C’mon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmph?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ken. Get up. You have to go home.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whyyyy?” He groaned, pulling the redhead closer. Kyle was tempted to bite his neck, to see if it would startle him enough to wake up.</p><p> </p><p>“You said you’d check on Karen! C’mon, asshole.” Kyle sat up as much as Kenny would allow him, nudging his cheek with his nose.</p><p> </p><p>“Fiiiine.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle lifted up off him, smiling when the other boy followed to kiss his cheek. He wasn’t actually angry at Kenny for this—he couldn’t be. Not when he was so sweet, so understanding, the way he always was. </p><p> </p><p>He’d make a good father.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay, angel?” Kenny asked, moving a hand to caress his side. </p><p> </p><p>“Huh? Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve slept too much today.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah. You were up early, right? Makin’ up for lost time.” He nuzzled him behind his ear, making Kyle squirm. “Sides. I’m just great for cuddles.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, fuck off,” Kyle laughed, shoving him weakly. “You need to go check on Karen.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” The blonde pulled him to his chest, tilting his chin up to kiss him. “You sure you’re good on your own?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine, Ken. There’s three other people here.” Kyle rolled his eyes. “But, uh…text me when you’re home, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Worried about me, babe?” </p><p> </p><p>“You’ve got no room to talk.” Kyle shoved his chest. “Of course I am. I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny kept smiling like a dumbass, but let Kyle go. “I love you too. Text me if you need anything before I get there, okay? I’m here for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know, Ken. I know,” Kyle sighed, shaking his head. “Now go home. Please?”</p><p> </p><p>“Aight, aight. Miss you. Be careful, okay? I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I love you too.”</p><p> </p><p>It took another hug and a kiss that lasted too long for Kenny to finally disentangle himself completely from Kyle. Kyle listened to him walk away, standing in the middle of the room, waiting until his footsteps faded out of earshot.</p><p> </p><p>Then, Kyle burst into tears.</p><p> </p><p>He dove at the bed, burying his face in a pillow. He’d cried so much today. When would it ever stop?</p><p> </p><p>Six weeks pregnant. He couldn’t think. It felt like his entire body was screaming, arguing with itself, punching holes in the walls of his skull and throwing kicks against his heart. </p><p> </p><p><em> You have to get an abortion </em> , one voice says. <em> You </em> have <em> to. </em></p><p> </p><p><em> No! I can’t kill my baby! </em> The other shrieks, sounding as hysterical as Kyle feels.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It isn’t killing! It couldn’t survive outside of your womb—it’s a fucking embryo. You know that! It’s your choice, your body, and you have to choose not to go through with this. Think of your future! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Kenny is my future. It’s Kenny’s. I can’t kill Kenny’s baby. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You’d defend any other person’s right to abort! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I’m not any other person. This one is mine. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Kyle felt like he was going insane. He clawed his hands into his hair and sobbed, curling into a ball as best he could. He wanted Kenny. But he couldn’t have Kenny—his poor, sweet Kenny, who had looked at him with so much adoration. Kenny, who took care of everyone. Kenny could care for a baby. </p><p> </p><p>Kyle could not.</p><p> </p><p>Kyle loved his brother, but did not assume full responsibility for him. Kenny paid his family’s bills along with his mother and brother. Kyle got in the occasional fight with his father, yelling at him until he eventually cried and ran to Kenny. When Kenny fought with his father, he often had to fight him <em>physically</em>, leaving him with the odd bruise that he’d hide from Kyle the best he could.</p><p> </p><p>Kyle could not have Kenny right then. Kenny had to go home to care for his sister. Kyle, meanwhile, had ran away from home, leaving his brother all alone.</p><p> </p><p>What kind of father would he be? </p><p> </p><p>What kind of <em> mother </em>?</p><p> </p><p>Before Kyle could devolve too far into his pity, he was startled by the sound of his ringtone. He scrambled for his phone, finding it on the bedside table. He’d missed a series of texts from his mother and Ike; the latter’s contact currently filling up the screen.</p><p> </p><p>Kyle hesitated. Oh, God, Ike. He’d left his twelve-year-old brother in the dust that morning, without any explanation. What had they told him? What would Ike think? As annoying as he had gotten in his middle school years, Kyle loved his little brother dearly—did he already know, too?</p><p> </p><p>He sighed before clicking accept, laying back on the bed as he pressed the phone to his ear.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude, what the fuck?” Ike said, immediately, making Kyle blanch.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t <em> what the fuck </em>me! Mom could hear you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You cursed at her when you left! Besides, I think she’s more worried about you <em> running away </em> ? Which, again. <em> What the fuck </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“I...I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to explain, I—I just had to get out of there. I’m really sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“What did you even do? They won’t tell me. Like, how bad was it?”</p><p> </p><p>So he didn’t know. “It’s...it’s hard to explain, Ike. I mean...it’s a lot, I don’t…”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re all treating me like I don’t know anything! How bad could it be? Are you doing drugs?” He was clearly joking, and laughed before he continued. “Are you <em> pregnant </em> or something?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle resisted the urge to laugh. Of course Ike would jokingly ask if he was pregnant—it was the most unbelievable thing, wasn’t it? That Kyle, the smart, uptight, eldest Broflovski child could get himself knocked up. </p><p> </p><p>Truth was always stranger than fiction. And what was the use in lying? Ike had unwittingly presented him with the perfect opportunity to finally tell someone on his own. He couldn’t find the heart to present it any more gracefully.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Kyle said, closing his eyes. “I’m pregnant.”</p><p> </p><p>Beat.</p><p> </p><p>“...Wait. Are you serious?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” He repeated, rolling over onto his side, playing with the frayed edges of the bottom of his t-shirt. “Do you understand now why I had to leave?”</p><p> </p><p>“I...woah. How?” </p><p> </p><p>“The usual way. What do you mean, <em> how </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, I don’t know, I mean...your boyfriend, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s his. You can imagine how Mom and Dad felt about that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Holy shit. You guys are seriously having a baby?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, his thoughts from before rushing at him without warning. “I...I don’t know what I want to do yet. It’s a lot.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Oh. Oh, well, yeah. You’ve got...school and everything, I guess.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. And everything. That’s...Mom and Dad don’t want me to have it. That’s why I left.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you <em> do </em> want to keep it?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle groaned. “I don’t know, Ike!”</p><p> </p><p>“Geez, okay, I get it!” He went quiet for a moment. Kyle could hear him huffing on the other end of the line, like he was frustrated. “Dad’s <em> really </em> pissed at you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I figured he might be.”</p><p> </p><p>“He keeps calling you the wrong name, just because he’s mad. I can’t stand it when he does that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. It’s so weird how he can ignore everything we do, and do whatever Ma says, until one little stupid thing sets him off.” Kyle briefly considered bringing up what he’d been called that morning, but decided against it. As often as he cursed, Kyle didn’t want to repeat that to his younger brother. It was humiliating to think about.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh. I don’t know if this is a stupid <em> little </em> thing. I mean, not that it’s an excuse for him to be a dick, but. I mean, what, are you gonna be on Teen Mom?”</p><p> </p><p>“That isn’t funny,” Kyle muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.</p><p> </p><p>“So are you gonna live with Kenny now?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I’m at Stan’s.” Kyle shivered at the thought of living under the same roof as Kenny’s father in this condition. “You can come over if you want. If Mom won’t notice.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, she would. She’s on edge. Remind me not to get a girl pregnant.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not. Funny.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right, actually, I just—It’s weird.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“But, uh. I’m here for you. It’d be cool to be an uncle. Are...like, how pregnant are you?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle rolled his eyes. “At least a month.”</p><p> </p><p>“A month?! Dude!”</p><p> </p><p>“I only started feeling it this week!”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s so crazy,” Ike muttered, and Kyle could almost hear him shaking his head. “Mom was yelling when she got back. She said Kenny was there, does he—does he know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm. He’s—he’s really supportive.” Kyle realized he had moved his hand onto his stomach at some point, right where Kenny’s hand had been resting before.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s...good. I mean, he’s cool, that’s good. Bro. Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle laughed. “I’ve been better, Ike.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know if I should say ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘congratulations’.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, either.”</p><p> </p><p>They were both quiet for a moment, Kyle tapping a rhythm against his stomach. Ike had taken this easier than he’d expected—the boy was clearly doing his best to handle the situation delicately.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, look. I should...probably go. Ma’s going to get suspicious.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a good idea. Hey, Ike?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you. For being cool about this, I mean.” </p><p> </p><p>“Of course, you, uh….take care of yourself, I guess?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle smiled. “I’ll do my best. Love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Ike mumbled something like ‘you too’ before hanging up. </p><p> </p><p>Kyle laid there with his phone against his ear for a while, staring at the ceiling. He nearly thought he was going to start crying again when somebody knocked. </p><p> </p><p>Kyle sat up, and Stan stepped in without waiting for a response. “Hey, dude. I heard Kenny leave, but then I heard you on the phone.”</p><p> </p><p>“I could have been changing, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>“You weren’t,” Stan retorted, rolling his eyes. “How are you feeling?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you know. Tired. Six weeks pregnant. The usual.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, uh….the usual. You guys, uh, any closer to a decision?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle gritted his teeth. “No, Stan. No, we are not. I kind of only found out this morning.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, yeah, I get it. It’s—it’s a lot. I mean. The idea of you two with a baby….”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> My baby our baby my baby our baby— </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I, dude. If I go through with this, I’ll, like…” Kyle did a gesture over his stomach. “...and everyone will know…”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean. Not necessarily.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stan. People will notice if I have a fucking…baby bump.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, maybe, but...maybe school would let you start doing school from home when you started, uh, showing? You could probably say something about not distracting people.”</p><p> </p><p>“Distracting…” Kyle muttered, suddenly offended by the idea of his child being called a distraction, and then pissed at that thought. Why did he care?! He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “God!”</p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s just—I don’t know, Stan, this entire thing, I guess? I keep…” Kyle stroked a hand over his stomach. “Flip-flopping. Keep it, don’t. Abort, put it up for adoption. I just…”</p><p> </p><p>“Kyle, dude, you just found out today. You can’t expect yourself to make a decision.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not even a baby!” Kyle cried, then quickly lowered his voice—Couldn’t have Butters finding out just yet. “It’s...it’s like. Not even a fucking fetus. And I’m already…”</p><p> </p><p>“Attached?”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle felt tears well up again before he could stop them, and groaned. “Fuck, dude. No, I don’t—I’m not attached, I’m just confused, and it’s six weeks, Stan, not four, how didn’t I know I was pregnant for six weeks? And when—when I remembered I drank, I got so <em> scared </em>, and is that me, or is it my brain, or—”</p><p> </p><p>As Kyle rambled, Stan silently pulled him into an embrace, falling onto the bed with him. Kyle turned without a second thought, nuzzling his nose into Stan’s chest, letting out a whimpery breath.</p><p> </p><p>There were a lot of things Stan and Kenny shared, and a lot of things they didn’t. One thing that was common between them was the instant instinct to wrap Kyle up and hold him together when he started unraveling. Or Butters, for that matter, or each other. It was just like how Butters’ natural instinct was to pet Stan’s hair or arm near obsessively when he was struggling through a day, or Kyle’s was to guide Kenny to lay his head in his lap when he needed comforting. The four of them had their methods, their intricate rituals between them, something others had never seemed to master. Stan and Kenny were huggers; Kyle had discovered Butters and himself to be more prone to their own unique forms of fretting.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re gonna be okay, dude. You don’t have to make any decisions today, or tomorrow, or the day after that. We’ve got your back, man.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stan…”</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously, dude, you’ll be okay.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle sighed. “I just want to stop thinking about it. I want it all to go away, but I can’t imagine <em> making </em> it all go away….you know?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I couldn’t imagine having to decide that kind of thing.”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle sighed, pressing his face further into Stan’s chest. “Don’t. It’s hell.” </p><p> </p><p>Stan ran his hand through the tangles of Kyle’s hair, which sort of hurt, but he didn’t mention it. Finally, Kyle sat up.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m already tired of this conversation. This loop, I—‘what do you want, Kyle?’ I only just found out, and I’m already tired of the whole thing!”</p><p> </p><p>“Then stop talking about it. I mean, for now. You don’t have to focus on it every second, dude—I mean...it’s not going anywhere.”</p><p> </p><p>“...You’re right. No, yeah, you’re right. Let’s...let’s just play video games or something, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, dude! C’mon, I’ll get Leo.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Yeah, okay. Hey, yeah, where is he? Did you...just leave him in your room?”</p><p> </p><p>“Pfft. No, dude, he’s downstairs. I didn’t actually have anything crazy wrong with my computer, so he left me to deal with it.”</p><p> </p><p>“It must be so nice. Living together, I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh...yeah, it is. I mean—I’m still kind of getting used to it, even now. Like, I love him, and he already slept over after any...fights, but. Living together is a lot. Though, I mean. We don’t have a baby.”</p><p> </p><p>“Neither do I.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I know, just—I’m sorry. That came out wrong. It is nice.” He scratched behind his ear. “I love him. And, dude...you know Kenny just wants to take care of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know. I—C’mon, I wanna be done with this shit for today, dude. Let’s find something to play. A first person shooter.”</p><p> </p><p>“We can pretend we’re shooting at your ovaries?”</p><p> </p><p>“Dude, sick!” Kyle wrinkled his nose. “Don’t say ‘ovaries’!” </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry! I was trying to help!”</p><p> </p><p>“You bringing up my fucking reproductive system is never going to help me, Stanley!”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, okay, noted!” Stan held his hands up in surrender, but he was smiling. “C’mon. If we don’t find any shooters we like, you can always destroy me at Mario Kart.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, so you admit it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t make me take it back!”</p><p> </p><p>Kyle laughed, following Stan downstairs. As they rifled through video games, things almost felt normal.</p><p> </p><p>It almost felt like home.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>When Kenny got home, his mother was waiting for him.</p><p> </p><p>“You got a lotta explainin’ to do, boy,” She said, sternly pointing a finger at him.</p><p> </p><p>Really, he should have seen this coming.</p><p> </p><p>Kenny sighed, turning and closing the front door behind him. He made his way over to the kitchen table, tugging out a chair and sitting down.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Ma.”</p><p> </p><p>Carol sat down in front of him, arms crossed huffily over her chest. “You start from the top. Tell me everythin’ about this Leah business.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny winced. “First off, don’t say Leah. Please.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? Don’t want me talkin’ about the stupid girl you cheated on that poor boy with?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, Ma, first of all, if I did cheat, it’d be on me, not the stupid girl,” Kenny sighed, leaning forward on his elbows. “Second off. I didn’t cheat on Kyle. Kyle, uh...Leah is Kyle.”</p><p> </p><p>She stared at him, her face scrunching up. “What now?”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, well, um.” Kenny groaned. “Kyle was Leah. You know what being transgender is, right, Ma?”</p><p> </p><p>“....’Lil bit. So, he’s a girl?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, Ma, he’s….When he was born, he, uh. He was assigned female.”</p><p> </p><p>“....And that’s not a girl? Ken, hon, I don’t get what you’re tellin’ me here. He or she?”</p><p> </p><p>He resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. “You’d say it like, girl body, boy brain, okay? Ky’s a boy, through and through...with girl, uh...parts.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess that makes sense.” His mother brushed her hair behind her ear and nodded before meeting Kenny’s eyes. “So. Kyle’s Leah.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>“And if he is….” Her voice lowered. “Is he pregnant, Ken?”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, he nodded.</p><p> </p><p>Before he could open them, something smacked him in the side of the head. It didn’t hurt, but he shouted “Ow!” on instinct, flinching away. When he looked at her, Carol hit him in the head again. She was gripping a rolled up newspaper.</p><p> </p><p>“When’d you even grab that?!” He snapped, blocking her next blow.</p><p> </p><p>“Had it hidden under the table,” She shot back. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to that boy?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Ma—!”</p><p> </p><p>“You two’re sixteen! Got a whole life ahead of him, and you went and fucked it all up!”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, I didn’t—I didn’t <em> mean </em> to!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d sure hope not! Never even bothered with you two spendin’ so much time alone together! I thought <em> this </em> was impossible!”</p><p> </p><p>“Like you woulda bothered with us anyway!” Kenny glared at her, gripping the table so hard his knuckles went white. “It’s none of your business. S’not like you’re gonna fuckin’ do anything about it.”</p><p> </p><p>She shot daggers right back, but Kenny could tell he’d struck a nerve. He almost felt bad for attacking her character, then remembered all he had to support it.</p><p> </p><p>His mother took her seat at the table again, and Kenny relaxed when she dropped her newspaper.</p><p> </p><p>“Ken. I need...You’re gonna have to stick with him, Kenny, I won’t let you run off. Just ‘cause you’re not the one havin’ the baby doesn’t mean you aren’t responsible for it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know that!” Kenny scoffed. “What’re you tryin’ to say? You—did you think I wasn’t gonna help him?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, Ken, how would I know?”</p><p> </p><p>“How?! Alrighty. Lemme tell you how.” He held up his hand like he was counting. “I already support our goddamn family better than Dad ever could. I took care of Kare when you didn’t. My whole damn life I’ve been lookin’ out for her. Ky’s only pregnant ‘cause of me, and I’d never walk away from a fuckin’ responsibility like that. I love him and would never leave him alone through this even if it <em> wasn’t </em> my baby. That enough for you?”</p><p> </p><p>His mother sighed, holding her head. “Kenny…”</p><p> </p><p>“What? What’dya think I would say, Mama? That I’m a deadbeat like your husband? Is that it?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not fair and you know it.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s completely fuckin’ fair. You can’t just come in here and act like you’re mother of the goddamn year.”</p><p> </p><p>The room fell silent then, other than the gentle sound of Kenny’s bouncing leg hitting the table.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, Ken,” His mother said, rubbing her own arms. “I know I don’t have any right to go accusin’ you of anythin’.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny nodded subtly, scratching behind his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“How is he?” She continued, tilting her head. </p><p> </p><p>“He’s…” Kenny huffed, wondering if she even deserved to hear anything at all about Kyle, about Kyle and their baby and what may come of it. “He’s scared.”</p><p> </p><p>“The poor thing,” His mom muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“His parents kicked him out.” Kenny held his head in his hands, groaning. “God. He’s at Stan’s. It hurt so much to leave him there. He told me to come back here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well. I’d say to bring him here, but…”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, uh. He doesn’t want to.” Kenny clawed at the table. “He isn’t even sure if he’s goin’ through with it.”</p><p> </p><p>Carol’s looked alarmed, her frown deepening. “You don’t mean—?”</p><p> </p><p>“I do. And if he does, that’s fine. It ain’t none of our business.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’d say it’s very well my business, if it’s my grandbaby he’s havin’.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny huffed, scowling at his mother. “And it’s my baby. Doesn’t fuckin’ matter. Kyle’s body, Kyle’s decision, end of fuckin’ story. I ain’t gonna fight you on this.”</p><p> </p><p>He could understand how she felt, though. He wanted that baby the moment he learned it might exist. He wasn’t pro-life or any bullshit like that. If Kyle didn’t want to go through with the pregnancy, he’d respect that, because he’d respect it for anybody else, and he loved Kyle, and didn’t want him to suffer through something just because Kenny wanted it. But...</p><p> </p><p>“...I don’t want him to,” Kenny admitted, head in his hands. “But he’s so...I just wanna be there for him, Ma, in whatever he does.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course you do, honey,” His mother soothed, though he moved away when she tried to touch his arm. “You’re a good man.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not a man, though,” He glared at her. “Or I shouldn’t be. I’m a teenager, Ma, do you forget that?”</p><p> </p><p>She grimaced. “You’ll <em> be </em> a good man. If he keeps that baby, you’ll have to be a father, Ken.”</p><p> </p><p>“I fuckin’ know that, goddamn. You think I don’t?”</p><p> </p><p>The conversation fell. Kenny listened intently to the ticking of the stupid cat clock on the wall. Karen had found it at a thrift store the year prior, and Kenny had dipped into his personal meal fund to buy it for her.</p><p> </p><p>And now, there’d be Kyle and doctor’s appointments and hospital bills and eventually a <em> baby </em>. A baby that’d need diapers and clothes and food and vaccines and—</p><p> </p><p>A baby. <em> Their </em> baby. He tried to grapple with the conflicting feelings of panic and excitement. On one hand, there was the dread of dealing with money and their educations and what it took to be parents. But on the other, there was the exhilarating image of Kyle holding their beautiful newborn with a small smile and tears in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>But he didn’t know if those tears would be happy.</p><p> </p><p>“My shift starts soon,” Carol said, drawing him out of his dream world. “Do you know when you’re seein’ him again?”</p><p> </p><p>“Tomorrow, I hope. He hadn’t scheduled any appointments when I left.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well. Let me know what I can do. He’s family now, after all.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Like you take good care of your family </em>. “I will. See you.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny took off down the hall, running a hand through his hair. He felt like he’d run a goddamn marathon. He wanted to call Kyle, ask if he could come back around, but wasn’t sure if it’d be welcome. </p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, he was distracted the moment he opened his bedroom door.</p><p> </p><p>Karen was sitting cross-legged on his bed. The tween had her hands curled into fists under her chin, grinning.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m gonna be an aunt?” </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, goddammit,” Kenny groaned.</p><p> </p><p>He gestured for Karen to scoot, dropping down onto the mattress next to her. She was still beaming at him, her eyes sparkling.</p><p> </p><p>“What all did you hear?”</p><p> </p><p>“Kyle’s having a baby,” She sang, closing her eyes as she did. “You should know these walls are thin.”</p><p> </p><p>He sat his elbow on his knee, holding his forehead in one hand. Another person finding out without Kyle’s permission. Great. “Yeah. Kyle’s pregnant. You can’t tell anyone, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“My lips are sealed!” She squealed, clapping. “That’s so awesome, oh my god! How much longer does he have?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, Kare. He doesn’t...he doesn’t even know if he’s having it.”</p><p> </p><p>Her face fell immediately. “Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re still in high school, Karen, and we didn’t plan for this. You gotta understand how scary this is.”</p><p> </p><p>“I mean...yeah, I know. But...you guys...you’d be so good at it!”</p><p> </p><p>Kenny smiled sadly. “It ain’t that easy. Wish it was.”</p><p> </p><p>He felt like Kyle <em> would </em> be good at it. The way he always fretted over everyone was decidedly mom-like. Not in the sense of being feminine, no. It was in the way he scolded him and Stan when they did something stupid, or fussed over them when they were sick... Kyle could be rude and intense and Kenny loved that side of him, but beyond all that, he could be <em> nurturing </em>. Maybe not in a traditional sense, but in a motherly way nonetheless. </p><p> </p><p>Kenny saw a brief mental image of Kyle dressing their child for a walk in the winter, buttoning up their coat, securing their little hat and helping tug on their little boots, and had to blink before his eyes could get misty. </p><p> </p><p>“Listen. I’ll keep you updated, Kare, but right now, Ky’s going through a lot. He doesn’t know what he wants to do, and I don’t wanna put any pressure on him, okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I get that. I just...got a lil excited.”</p><p> </p><p>“Me too.” Kenny sighed. He reached over and ruffled Karen’s hair, making her smack his wrist. “Now, <em> get </em>. You know I love ya, but I’ve had a long day.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” She says, standing. She walks to the door, then hesitates. “Just, um...I hope you keep it. It’d be so cool if you guys had a kid.”</p><p> </p><p>When she was gone, Kenny flopped onto his back with a groan. That conversation certainly didn’t fucking help him. He couldn’t get the image of Kyle with their child out of his head. Would they have Kyle’s wild curls? Would they have his eyes, or Kenny’s, or some other gene they’d inherited? God, he hoped they’d have Kyle’s hair.</p><p> </p><p>He hoped she’d be a girl. </p><p> </p><p>His phone buzzed in his pocket, and when he pulled it out, his heartbeat stuttered.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>ky &lt;3</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Hey. Can we talk?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>ky &lt;3</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Sharon’s gonna help me set up an OBGYN appointment. I need to know when you’ll be at work.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>An appointment. The gynecologist.  Who’d make all this so very real, a matter of Kyle’s health and their soon-to-be child.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> To be, or not to be? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Kenny sighed. He worked tomorrow. He’d have to take another job—either to start saving for their baby or his half of the abortion.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>call me. lets talk abt it</b>
</p><p> </p><p>He’d pay the whole thing to fix this for Kyle. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>ill start talkin to my boss abt scheduling around ur appts. im here for u anytime sweetheart</b>
</p><p> </p><p>He’d be a man for him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi everyone! I have some things I'd like to say on this chapter. ^^</p><p>Firstly, thank you so much for your support! The comments on the last chapter were the kind that always delight me to see. Ah, the lovely rambling paragraphs...shows you're excited! AAAAAA!</p><p>Secondly, I don't know how long each chapter will take. Dynamics is a big project I'm determined to finish, but that means I don't want to take any shortcuts in writing or quality...that's how you get chapters with a 9k word count. Whoops. Once my outline is secure, I hope I can start writing more reliably, and set a loose updating schedule! </p><p>Thirdly(that's a word, right?), you may have noticed some retcons in this chapter that aren't really retcons because I went back and changed some things. I made Kyle less far along, because it was more realistic for him to find out right when he misses a period, as that adds to suspicions he already had based on the peanut butter event...and how sick he'd been the past few mornings...so, Kyle is actually 6 weeks pregnant, as Sharon explained. The clock is ticking...</p><p>And finally, thanks again to my friends for supporting me with this, most specifically Ash and Leo. Thank you for putting up with me and my constant need for validation!!! I love you guys. And, of course, thank you for being my reliable beta readers.</p><p>Thank you so much for reading! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello~! thank you for reading!</p><p>thank you to @spookychrstmas for beta reading! i owe you my life</p><p>comments are HELLA appreciated. feel free to contact me at knifechvrch on tumblr!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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